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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26341345">Fate Willing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maimat/pseuds/Maimat'>Maimat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Brothels, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hiding in Plain Sight, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Novigrad (The Witcher), Post-Season/Series 01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:28:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,154</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26341345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maimat/pseuds/Maimat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The powers-that-be who are searching for the missing Princess of Cintra are aware that Jaskier the Bard is a well-known acquaintance of Geralt of Rivia. It was only a matter of time.</p><p>Jaskier is the first person Geralt seeks out after taking Ciri to Kaer Morhen.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"You're going to get yourself killed. Is that what you want?" Rage contorted the Witcher's face, such that any sane man would run at the sight of it.</i></p><p>  <i>Jaskier leaned in.</i><br/></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>340</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Possible hint of things that happen at the beginning of "Blood of Elves", any spoilers have been left vague. </p><p>Thank you to my wonderful beta readers: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Arthur/">Miah_Arthur</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuteAsAMuntin/">CuteAsAMuntin</a>, and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/">dragon_rider</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hon, you've got someone waiting for you." Maliika peeked her head into Jaskier’s room and belatedly knocked on the wall to get his attention.</p><p>Jaskier glanced up from his notebook. "Who?"</p><p>Maliika—the proprietor of Crippled Kate’s, who was neither crippled nor named Kate—shrugged. "He asked for you, Dandelion. Come on, love, up you get. An adoring fan awaits."</p><p>“Ha.” He set the notebook aside. Maliika never asked for much. Jaskier had a room of his own in the attic, privacy to compose and play his lute. She'd let him build a life here, albeit a meager one, and though he couldn't safely perform on stage, the bedroom did offer a whole different performance of its own. </p><p>This life, he surmised, was favorable to bowing to the mercy of Redanian Intelligence for protection. </p><p>"Are you going to tell me who?"</p><p>"Oh, I wager the element of surprise on this one is going to make it well worth your while. Room five."</p><p>Jaskier prepared for his role. He added a small amount of smudge around his eyes to darken their outline and donned a fresh linen shirt, leaving the ties open around his chest. Loose trousers hung low on his hips, the better to show off the ridges of hip bones cresting over the waistband.</p><p>No one could say Jaskier didn’t have talent for the work. If the dice of Fate had tumbled only slightly differently, he could have ended up in a place like this rather than Oxenfurt. Funny how Fate always won out in the long run.</p><p>Room five. Jaskier descended the stairs, carefully skipping the loose floorboard on the third step to prevent it from raising its creaky alarm. The former bard rolled his shoulders and wiggled his hips to loosen his posture. An important element of the performance was to appear relaxed, supple. He knocked. "Hello? Mind if I come in?"</p><p>Well, of course the client wanted him to come in, otherwise what was the point? But that was all part of the game — a secret rendezvous deserved an element of hesitation, an illusion of innocence. He still wished he knew who he was meeting. It was difficult to play a part when you didn’t know for whom you were playing it.</p><p>No response came from within. Jaskier entered slowly. A single candle burned on the bedside table, enveloping the room in flickering shadows. A large figure sat in the far corner, hidden in the darkness. He knew his regulars who asked for him by name.</p><p>This wasn't one of them.</p><p>A frisson of fear shivered up his spine. Maliika had done her best to protect him. She had insisted this wasn't his world and she did her best to shield him from the worst of it, but still, the filth got through the cracks.</p><p>Maliika wouldn't deliberately steer him wrong. Not unless someone threatened her and the others.  Jaskier didn’t expect Maliika to choose him over her own safety or that of others in her care.</p><p>Jaskier quickly assessed the room. He clenched his fists as the air around him became smothering. The figure in the dark...</p><p><em> Fuck </em> . <em> Not now </em>. He hadn't thought about that day in weeks. The memories rose to the surface and his breath quickened. Phantom pain shot through his shoulders and wrists. </p><p>He was safe, he reminded himself. No one knew he was here.</p><p>He wasn't the famous troubadour anymore, he was Dandelion, wallowing in poverty and filth like everyone else. </p><p>He looked younger than his age, an image he intentionally cultivated in this place. The ostentatious outfits that had defined his identity as a bard had been replaced with simple cotton tunics and trousers. Even his hair was different, a shoulder-length style suggesting elven heritage.</p><p>Jaskier’s throat worked convulsively as he swallowed and managed to find his voice again.</p><p>"I understand you asked for me?" His voice broke only a little, probably not even noticeable to the man sitting in the shadows. But then, it seemed from Jaskier’s experience that some people could sense fear. </p><p>More than that, they could use it to control and manipulate. To hurt.</p><p>He shook his head minutely, needing to focus. "What can I do for you?" He brought one hand up to wrap his loose shirt ties around one finger, letting his nervousness seem like part of the act. It took a monumental effort of will to close the door behind him and let the latch click into place.</p><p>"Jaskier."</p><p>His name. <em> They knew his name. </em> The thundering beat of his quickened heart blotting out all other sounds. The former bard stumbled back and reached back for the door handle behind him. There were no convenient escape routes in this room. No hidden passages. No sorceresses to come to his aid.</p><p>The people he cared about were in danger. The chair creaked as the figure rose, heavy footsteps thumped across the floor, and Jaskier looked up to confront the face of his nightmares.</p><p>No. Of Geralt.</p><p>"Oh. Sweet Melitele," Jaskier breathed, and launched forward, arms wrapping around Geralt's neck and pulling him close. "Fuck. You're alright. You have no idea how worried I was something had happened to you and —"</p><p>"Jaskier." Geralt pried him off and gripped his shoulders, holding him at arm's length.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" Jaskier asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. Geralt had found him! Geralt had found him. And if Geralt could find him, others could find him. Jaskier glanced around nervously as if expecting more shadowy figures lurking in the dark. "How did you find me?"</p><p>"I should have known you’d be holed up in a brothel. Are you working here? Didn’t Maliika tell you I was here?" </p><p>“Yes, no, and no,” Jaskier answered and grabbed Geralt’s hand. "Who else knows I’m here?" </p><p>“No one. Jaskier, I need you to do something for me,” Geralt began, but Jaskier shook his head and tugged Geralt forward. The Witcher didn’t budge.</p><p>“We can talk later,” Jaskier insisted and tugged at him again.</p><p>Despite his strength being nowhere near enough to move such a beast of a man, Geralt went along with it easily. Jaskier got the door open and quickly led Geralt up the stairs to his tiny room in the attic.</p><p>"What did you do to your hair?" Geralt asked.</p><p>The small space didn’t seem nearly as cozy now that it was under the Witcher’s scrutiny. Jaskier grabbed a string and tied his hair at the nape of his neck. "Seemed like a good time for a new look." The joke fell flat, but Jaskier’s mind was already racing ahead. He didn't have much stashed with him that would be of use on the road. Travel boots — those were important. He kicked off his leather slippers, hastily disrobed, and pulled on something more suitable for travel.</p><p>Initial, overwhelming panic aside, Jaskier did have a plan. It took barely any time at all to collect what he needed and be ready to leave. He kept a small bag, always packed, tucked away under his bed. Everything else in the room, he left as it was. As much as it pained him, he couldn't be seen lugging a lute on his back. At least his special lute, the elven gift, had been left behind in Oxenfurt for safekeeping. One day, he’d feel safe to reclaim it.</p><p>“Follow me,” he told Geralt and ran down the stairs without looking to see if the witcher heeded his words. In his haste, he ran headlong into Maliika halfway up the steps, nearly sending them both tumbling. Jaskier grasped her arms and kissed her cheek quickly. "Thank you for everything you've done. Stay safe. Should anyone ask —"</p><p>"You were never here." Maliika finished with a frown. "I know how these things go."</p><p>Jaskier shook his head. "Sweet Melitele, no. Don't say that. Tell them whatever they want to know." He took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this. Fate's willing, we'll meet again."</p><p>He ran down to the second floor, into the small room at the end where the linens were stored, and opened the window. "This way," he urged Geralt over his shoulder.</p><p>Whatever Geralt thought of the theatrics, he played along, and that was the important thing. Jaskier crawled out onto the roof and jumped across to the shabby building beside the brothel. Crusty paint peeled off the walls and flaked onto his trousers as he climbed in a window. Stained bed pallets lay strewn about the floor, and piles of mouse droppings were collected in corners. The acrid smell of fisstech hung in the air — no surprise in an abandoned place like this. Jaskier ducked around a door hanging off its hinges and down a trash-covered stairway, all the way to the basement. Spiderwebs adorned the ceiling beams. Jaskier pushed aside an old shelf and revealed a hole in the wall leading into the sewers.</p><p>"Come on." He lit the lantern strategically placed just beside the opening and led the way into the tunnel of curved brick walls. Water dripped from mold-covered arches and Jaskier stepped carefully along the ledge, slippery with slimy build-up of foam and algae.</p><p>Geralt caught his arm. "Stop. There are pockets of toxic fumes down here."</p><p>"I know. Please, we have to go." Jaskier pulled out of the witcher’s grasp. Geralt followed once again.</p><p>The fumes burned Jaskier's nose and he held a perfumed cloth up over his face, offering one to Geralt, should he want it. Geralt waved the item away, and Jaskier stuffed it back into his bag. He deftly avoided the worst areas without too much effort. It helped that he'd been exploring the damn sewers for months and knew his way around them by now.</p><p>"Wait, stop." Jaskier pulled back as they reached a junction and flattened his back against the wall. "Drowners. They're more interested in the dead than the living, all we need to do is be quiet and stay out of their way." Jaskier bit his lip, feeling like an idiot and resisting the urge to smack himself in the face. As if a Witcher needed to be told how to deal with monsters.</p><p>Geralt peered around him and reached for his sword.</p><p>Jaskier grimaced but stepped aside and let the Witcher do his thing. It didn't take long to dispatch the vile carrion-eaters. Faster than waiting them out. The threat dealt with, Jaskier continued, stepping over a severed ghoul arm in his path. He glanced down the tunnel to the left leading deeper into the city. It had probably been dragged here from beneath Whoreson Jr.’s fighting arena. He stayed well away from that.</p><p>He headed toward a closed metal grate. The door screeched with wear as Jaskier pulled it open for them to pass through. Dead rodents floated in the water, and rust trails colored the bricks at the pipe access points on the wall.</p><p>"We'll come out at The Bits. I've a friend there. She'll be able to help us get across the river and out of the city." Jaskier focused on his surroundings; it would do no good to get lost. Small markers made in chalk along the walls helped navigate, but he knew from experience not to rely on those as a crutch. </p><p>He mentally applauded himself for all the months of planning and work that were finally culminating with this — thus far — relatively seamless escape (if one didn’t count the sewer ghouls, which Jaskier wasn’t). He’d known someone would find him sooner or later and he’d have to run again, but still, he was sad to see the end of a relatively peaceful segment of what his life had become.</p><p>The fresh air — ha, who ever called the Bits fresh? Not anyone who hadn't just gone on a long hike through sewage, certainly — was a blessing as Geralt followed the bard out of the sewer. Jaskier turned off the lantern and continued along his pre-planned route along the beach to the fisher shacks and swiped the key from under a barrel.</p><p>"Home sweet home," Jaskier welcomed with a flourish as he unlocked the door and stepped aside. A few blankets lay folded on a bench next to a table and a couple of chairs.</p><p>"You've been living here?" Geralt asked, scratching his jaw.</p><p>"No, sorry, that was a joke. I've been living at Maliika’s for about six months. Just as well you showed up. I shouldn't have stayed there as long as I did."</p><p>"I've been to Oxenfurt." Geralt sat down. "No one’s heard from you in over a year. Your friends are worried."</p><p>"And how about you? Were you worried about me?" Jaskier sat across from him and leaned forward, elbows on the table, heart pounding. He continued without missing a beat, not daring to leave Geralt an opening. Jaskier had already guessed the answer long ago, and it was not one he wanted to hear. "Who did you see? Did you talk to Shani?"</p><p>"I've never known you not to keep in touch with the girl." Geralt’s reply gave away little.</p><p>"Is she alright?"</p><p>"She's fine. What have you gotten yourself into this time? What are you hiding from?" the Witcher pressed.</p><p>What indeed. Jaskier frowned. "I saw Yen a while back. She told me you found your Child Surprise."</p><p>"More like we found each other."</p><p>Jaskier nodded, internally pleased at successfully avoiding the question. "Destiny is funny that way, isn't it. Why are you looking for me?"</p><p>Geralt clenched his fist, an unconscious gesture. Jaskier always knew Geralt was about to lose a round of Gwent when that tell popped up. "I didn't want to."</p><p>Jaskier ignored the way his heart sank. It shouldn’t hurt to hear Geralt confirm all his doubts. "Ha, so you must really be desperate." He hid the disappointment behind a joke and a smile.</p><p>“I need your help.” Geralt stated, looking away.</p><p>“You know I’d do anything for you.” It cost nothing to admit it. They both knew the truth. "Tell me what you need, Geralt."</p><p>"Misinformation. I need you to convince the world that Ciri is dead."</p><p>"And how do you think I can do that?" Jaskier placed his hands on his lap, out of sight, to hide the fine tremors that had started in them. He knew what Geralt wanted, and even though he’d told him he’d do anything, he felt a chill run down his spine.</p><p>"Write a song. Do what you do."</p><p>Jaskier swallowed. This was Geralt asking him for help. That alone made the whole last year and a half worthwhile, didn't it? Like in the great stories. Even the secondary players sometimes returned to further the plot for the real heroes. Sometimes they even survived long enough to become heroes themselves. "I'll need to return to Oxenfurt. Get my lute. Let everyone know I'm back."</p><p>Geralt glanced around the shack. "First, we should solve whatever problem has you hiding out in a whorehouse."</p><p>Jaskier laughed. "Doesn't matter anymore.” Geralt looked about to ask further but Jaskier shrugged. “How many people know you were looking for me?"</p><p>"Everyone."</p><p>"You really needed me that badly?” That feeling started up in his chest again, hope trying to take seed.  </p><p>“You’re the only bard I know.” </p><p>“Well, of course. That makes sense.” Jaskier forced out. "No one can know where you found me. It's important that no one connects me with Crippled Kate’s. How shall I make my comeback? Do you remember the inn just outside Oxenfurt’s Novigrad Gate? The Inky Blot?"</p><p>"Last time we were there they banned you from ever stepping foot into their establishment —"</p><p>"Of course I remember," Jaskier grinned, and winked. "What better way is there to make an entrance than being thrown out for everyone to see and gossip about?"</p><p>"It's been a while since I last saw you," Geralt said, and Jaskier felt the weight of the Witcher's stare settle on him, stripping his defenses, examining details Jaskier wished to keep hidden.</p><p>"Sorry, my manners," Jaskier laughed nervously. "How have you been? In good health, I hope?"</p><p>"I took Ciri up to —"</p><p>"Don't." Jaskier jumped up from his seat. What he was planning to do next he had no idea. But, he knew he couldn't hear this. "Please. Don't tell me anything. Just tell me what you wish others to know.” Jaskier cleared his throat and placed his hands. “It's better this way. I'll be more likely to keep the story straight."</p><p>"I've never known you to trip over any of your tales in the past."</p><p>"Yes, well." He tried not to think about how it had felt when — and his thoughts froze there. His mind traveled back to that day a year and a half ago and how— no. He couldn't think of that. Sweat broke out on his brow. "Better safe than sorry. Now, tell me, what do you want the world to know about the Lion Cub of Cintra?"</p><p>Jaskier shoved away the fear and sat back down. Despite everything, it felt good to sit down and talk. Jaskier dug out a bottle of dwarven spirits he'd stashed in one of the crates, and they took turns drinking straight from the bottle. They plotted like back in the old days when they used to sit huddled together over maps, back when Jaskier would recount the rumours and folk tales he collected from the villagers and listen as Geralt railed about which ones were bollocks and which were worth more investigation.</p><p>"We need to make it gripping!" Jaskier insisted. "Let’s say, she was rescued by a young Cintran knight who fought his way out of the burning city, only then to face more insurmountable odds as they came against the whole of the Nilgaardian army! Oh!" Jaskier slapped his hand against the table. “I’ve got it! Queen Calanthe wasn't much older when she faced her first battle, was she?”</p><p>Geralt took another sip from the bottle as Jaskier waved his arms in a fit of inspiration.</p><p>“So,” Jaskier continued, “The Lion Cub of Cintra, beside her brave knight, they stood together, swords drawn, making their last stand!" He grabbed the bottle back from Geralt and stood up, holding it aloft in imitation of a sword of his own. "She faced the invading Nilfgaard without fear, a true Lioness in her own right." He placed the bottle back on the table. "And that is where the tale ends. Brave Cirilla, her first and last battle, fighting for the freedom of the Cintran people! Cut down even as her own story was just beginning." Jaskier stumbled as he grabbed for his chair, Geralt's grip on his arm the only thing keeping him from hitting the floor. When had the room started spinning? "Fuck, even I believe it."</p><p>"It's good."</p><p>Jaskier grinned. "I've missed this."</p><p>Geralt handed him the bottle of spirits again and Jaskier automatically took another drink.</p><p>"I thought I'd be drinking this under entirely different circumstances, to be honest. This is much better."</p><p>"What circumstances?" Geralt asked. He sounded far too sober. Damn mutations. Jaskier never stood a chance when he tried to keep up while drinking with the Witcher.</p><p>"Oh, you know, the whole fleeing for my life thing. It gets old quick. It took only a week before it stopped being exciting. No, wait. Right, it was never exciting."</p><p>"Why run from Oxenfurt? You have friends there. Why not ask them for help?" Geralt asked.</p><p>“I dared not risk it.”</p><p>“And so you came to Novigrad to work in a brothel?”</p><p>Jaskier winced. Yes, it did sound grim when put that way, didn't it? "I didn’t come straight here. The brothel’s not so bad. Maliika is lovely. I was with friends. The work is fun." He winked.</p><p>"And before the brothel?" Geralt asked.</p><p>"I was alone." Jaskier coughed and put the bottle back on the table. "Enough of that though. Eh, I'm going to feel like shit in the morning, aren't I?" An enjoyable level of drunkenness had quickly progressed to nausea, and now he just felt tired. The table looked like the most comfortable table he'd ever seen, and he leaned forward and rested his head on his folded arms. "See you in Oxenfurt?" Jaskier asked.</p><p>Rather than answer, Geralt stood up, hooked his hands under Jaskier's arms, and hauled him up to deposit on the old bed in the corner. Lying down did feel much better. He rolled over and stared up at the yellow mutant eyes staring down on him. "I hate when I'm drunk and you're not."</p><p>"You should be used to it." Geralt crouched beside Jaskier's head.</p><p>“I should, shouldn’t I?” Those eyes were so close now. "Geralt," Jaskier whispered. "It wasn't all bad was it?"</p><p>"What wasn't?"</p><p>"Us," Jaskier answered and then realised what he'd said and groaned. "I mean, us getting drunk," he corrected. "I didn't end up under the table that often."</p><p>Geralt patted his shoulder. "Only because I was there to drag you back to bed after you passed out. Get some sleep."</p><p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt ensured that Jaskier was safe and sleeping soundly before leaving the shack. Jaskier understood cities and people far better than Geralt ever could. He trusted the bard knew what he was doing when it came to making an entrance and catching the crowd's attention. </p><p>The other thing Geralt knew was not to trust Jaskier in matters of self-preservation. That personality flaw had been apparent two minutes after meeting the man. Make no mistake, Geralt knew Jaskier was a survivor. No one followed around a witcher for that many years and came out the other end without knowing a thing or two about staying alive just as no one followed a witcher around for that many years if they had a lick of sense in their head. </p><p>Take that little tour through the sewers, for instance. There were no blueprints to be studied and followed. Yet, apparently, Jaskier knew exactly where to go and what to avoid and somehow navigated the city’s expanse to come out exactly where he wanted to. That level of intimacy with the lower levels of Novigrad took time to cultivate, and the thought of Jaskier wandering around in those depths full of toxic mold and drowners with just his stupid tallow lantern made Geralt grind his teeth. </p><p>What had Geralt learned since finding the bard? Jaskier was on the run, hiding his identity and working as a prostitute in a cheap dockside brothel, and exploring Novigrad sewer systems for fun. </p><p>Fuck. In other words, he’d learned shit-all.</p><p>He still didn't know what Jaskier was on the run from, nor why the threat suddenly didn't matter anymore. No one in Oxenfurt had known what spooked the bard. From what Geralt had gathered, Jaskier was in his glory one day, giving a topnotch performance at some important-sounding academy garden, the next, he’d given his lute to Shani for safekeeping and disappeared — no letters, no secret messages. It wasn’t like Jaskier not to add a flair of drama to his exploits.</p><p>Geralt had suspected Dijkstra to be involved and confronted the spymaster, only to be met with more questions.</p><p>"The bard is on no secret mission for me, but you know as well as anyone his loyalties are thin."</p><p>"If you've sent him somewhere —"</p><p>Dijkstra had laughed. "What do you take me for? Jaskier is no master of deceit. He can barely follow directions. The only task I trust him for is to pass uncomplicated messages to unimportant people about matters of no urgency." </p><p>They both knew Geralt couldn't call him out on the lie, as doing so would expose Jaskier’s tendency to share information with the witcher. </p><p>"Is he alive?" Geralt asked. </p><p>"He's not been confirmed dead." </p><p>Not good enough. </p><p>Next, he went to see the Countess de Stael at her estate in Rinde. She reluctantly agreed to his request for an audience and allowed him to sit with her as she enjoyed a late morning tea in her rose garden.</p><p>"Have I seen Julian lately? No. He has been unforgivably absent. Not even a letter of condolence when my dear poodle was picked up and carried away by an eagle. I dare say, he is likely miffed at me for refusing aid a while back." </p><p>"He came to you for help?" </p><p>She dismissively waved her hand in the air. "A trifle. He asked for a loan. I promptly sent him away, as is proper. We all know there is more to life than money. Charity without a guarantee of return investment is poor conduct. I offered him wisdom instead, and I hope he has used this time to reflect upon my words. 'Destiny uses troubled times to teach us perseverance.'"</p><p>"How much did he ask for?"</p><p>"Fifty crowns. A paltry sum, but it is the lesson learned that matters the most. When you see him, let him know that I do not hold a grudge and he is welcome to apply to perform at my summer garden festival." </p><p>Geralt clenched his jaw to avoid saying anything Jaskier would disapprove of. As he walked out to the street, a chambermaid ran out after him. </p><p>"Sir Witcher!" She called. </p><p>He stopped. "What now? More wisdom from your mistress?" </p><p>The girl blushed. "I saw your Jaskier that day the lady speaks of. Me and the others, we took a collection between ourselves and gave it to him before he left. Not much, but when times are rough, even a trifle can help."</p><p>"Thank you. Did he say anything?" </p><p>"He looked scared, Sir Witcher. It was in his eyes, you know?" She blushed again. "His eyes were distraught. Has he come to trouble?" </p><p>"That's what I'm trying to find out." </p><p>She hesitated, but then jumped forward and threw her arms around Geralt's neck in a quick hug. "I've heard his songs about you. I know, if he's still out there — if anyone stands a chance of finding him — it's you."  </p><p>Geralt wished he had the same level of confidence the girl had. </p><p>It wasn't long after that Geralt’s search led to Novigrad. He stopped at Crippled Kate’s, a place he knew Jaskier was fond of, to ask further questions. The look of shock on Jaskier’s face had mirrored his own when they’d met in room five.  </p><p>How Jaskier managed to hide out right under everyone's noses for so long was anyone's guess. Nothing about this sat well with the Witcher. Jaskier was crazy if he thought it was going to be that easy to evade Geralt’s questioning. </p><p>He made sure the shack was secure and Jaskier was safe, and then left and took position far enough away to watch without being seen. </p><p>It took ‘til midday for Jaskier to emerge in the same clothes and carrying the same pack as before. The bard lazily wandered deeper into the poor neighborhood just outside the Novigrad walls. The first stop he made was to a rundown hut in the shadow of the bridge.  </p><p>A young woman greeted Jaskier at the door and quickly let him in. The visit lasted over an hour, but when Jaskier emerged, his hair was trimmed and styled. The next stop he made was further south to a house with a well-tended garden. This door he opened without knocking, and he was there the rest of the afternoon. As the sun began to set, Geralt knelt in meditation stance, ready to keep watch through the night. </p><p>The sun had just gone down when Jaskier emerged wearing a fitted, light blue doublet and matching trousers. He walked straight toward Geralt's position. </p><p>"My friend Elihal has informed me it's going to rain tonight. You might as well come in and join us."  </p><p>"Jaskier —"</p><p>"Oh, don't fret. As if I'd have done any different in your shoes. In fact, I have made an entire career of following you when you've told me not to. Come, I'll introduce you. Elihal has a very fine taste in wine."</p><p>Geralt discovered, on entering, that the house was a tailor’s shop as well as a residence. A woman, presumably the aforementioned Elihal, lounged on a couch in a small sitting area off to the side. She smiled at Geralt. "So, we finally meet. Come in. Would you like a glass?" </p><p>Her voice was low but soft, and after looking Geralt up and down, she turned her gaze back on Jaskier. "I see why you’re so enamored with him." </p><p>Jaskier blushed and helped himself to another glass of wine. "She means the songs," he explained quickly. "Well. Geralt, may I present to you my friend and tailor, the lovely Elihal. Elihal, Geralt."</p><p>"Geralt," Jaskier continued, "Should you ever need an outfit made for any event other than tearing back and forth across the continent in that dreadful armor, I recommend you come see Elihal here for all your needs. She is the most talented of tailors I've ever had the pleasure to be acquainted with." </p><p>Gerlat recognized the glint in Jaskier's eye. Elihal was more than just a mere acquaintance. With that in mind, Geralt politely extended his hand in as non-flirtatious a greeting as possible.  </p><p>Elihal excused herself quickly after introductions were completed, retreating to her bedroom, and left Geralt and Jaskier to spend the night on the floor. Jaskier stretched out by Geralt's side and watched the lightning flash through the window as the storm raged outside.  </p><p>"Ready to be yourself again?" Geralt asked the bard</p><p>The latest boom of thunder was enough to shake the floor. "I think I am."  </p><p>Geralt’s curiosity, concern, or whatever the hell one wanted to call it, got the better of him once again. "What drove you into hiding?" </p><p>Jaskier had nearly fallen asleep in front of the cozy fire, but the question chased away any hope of slumber. "How about some more wine?"  </p><p>"You always drink this much, now?" Geralt wondered.</p><p>Rather than answer, Jaskier poured a glass and drank it in one go, and offered a silent apology for not savoring the fine vintage as it was meant. </p><p>"What happened in Oxenfurt?" Geralt asked again. </p><p>Jaskier refilled his glass again. He knew Geralt wasn't going to leave it alone. "Didn’t Yennefer tell you?" </p><p>"I haven't talked to Yen." </p><p>He found that hard to believe.  </p><p>Geralt didn’t let it rest. "Did Yen do something? Did she threaten you —" </p><p>Jaskier laughed at how far from the truth that was. "No, she did no such thing. Actually, she saved my life. And then we had a drink and a chat, and we both went our ways."  </p><p>"Saved your life how?"  </p><p>"From a critic." Jaskier laughed, then drew one knee up to his chest as he downed another glass. "Have you been safe? Are you aware you're being hunted?" He should have asked that sooner. "Yennefer must have told you something. She said she'd get a message to you."</p><p>"A letter, yes. She sent it to Kaer Morhen while I was there with —" </p><p>"Don't." Jaskier jumped to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, then smoothed out his very fine outfit. "I already warned you, don't tell me where you've been or what you're going to do."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>Jaskier needed more wine, but the bottle was empty. When had that happened? He paced instead. "Because! Because I already know too much. You can't trust me with details, please."  </p><p>Geralt caught his wrist and Jaskier flinched away. </p><p>"Sorry," Jaskier backed up until his back bumped the wall and pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. "Just, give me a moment. I'm sorry. Fuck. I'd hoped I'd be braver than this."  </p><p>Jaskier felt the push in the air as Geralt used a sign to ignite a candle. It didn't make much of a difference in the room. </p><p>"You were attacked because of me? Interrogated?" </p><p>"I didn't tell him anything. I swear." </p><p>"Nilfgaardian agents?" </p><p>"Possibly. There’s no lack of people interested in the whereabouts of a certain princess, is there?" </p><p>"How did you escape?" Geralt's tone turned hard, angry. "Yen helped you? You'd have never managed on your own. Why didn't she tell me?" </p><p>"Thanks, I'm delighted you have such confidence in my skills," Jaskier bit back with sarcasm.</p><p>"And here I am, dragging you back into it. At least you could have said something. Fuck! I should have left you where you were." </p><p>"No." Jaskier stood up to face Geralt. "No. They may as well have killed me if this is how it ends.”</p><p>He waited until he knew Geralt was paying attention. </p><p>"I know how useless I am to you. I'm only human, and I've never been successful at anything my whole life. It's no secret why you don't want me around.”</p><p>“Forget I asked for help. Go back to the brothel. I’ll find another way to keep Ciri safe.”</p><p>Jaskier used a carefully controlled tone when he continued. “No, as I've already told you, none of that matters anymore. This is bigger than me, or you. I’m committed to this, Geralt. Everyone is going to hear my tale about the Lion Cub’s fatal battle." </p><p>"Jaskier. You stink of fear. I won't let you —"</p><p>"Let me?" Jaskier asked. "Oh, ho ho. Let me, he says. So now you think I'm, what? Your pet to order about at will? Nope. Don't you dare walk out until I finish saying what I need to. You think leaving will stop me? I'm headed back to Oxenfurt with or without you, and I'm going to fucking shout to the world that I'm back."  </p><p>Geralt had his hand on the door, but turned back at Jaskier's proclamation. "You're going to get yourself killed. Is that what you want?" Rage contorted his face, such that any sane man would run at the sight of it.</p><p>Jaskier leaned in. "Like you give a monkey’s."</p><p>They stood and glared. Jaskier broke eye contact first, knowing that they'd probably be staring at each other all night if he didn’t. "What I mean is — yes, I'm afraid. I'm fucking terrified. But you asked for help, no take-backs allowed. Go ahead and leave, but I'm going to do what I said I would. I'll spread the story about the Lion Cub's last stand!" </p><p>A muscle in Geralt's jaw ticked, and Jaskier realized how close he stood and took a step back. “You’re wrong.”</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>"Everything." Geralt ground out between clenched teeth, and then he walked out. </p><p>Rain still poured but the lightning and thunder had moved on. The rumblings now only a distant roar. </p><p>So much for that. Jaskier sat on his bedroll and cursed himself for making things difficult. He had a knack of sticking his foot in his mouth where Geralt was concerned, but he'd meant what he said. He intended to see this through. Even at the cost of his life, Jaskier wouldn’t turn back, not even if he’d chased Geralt away for good. His chest ached and he tried to control his breathing, but the attempt failed and he expelled his breath in one big rush. Jaskier rolled onto his side, arm across his stomach. He bit his tongue and dug his fingernails into his palms to suppress the tears threatening to overtake him. He failed at that, too.</p><p>When Jaskier woke up in the morning Geralt's travel bags and his bedroll were gone. He must have returned while Jaskier’d been asleep. That was it, then. Jaskier packed up his items. Elihal emerged from her bedroom as he tugged on his boots. </p><p>She held out a pouch. </p><p>Jaskier swallowed at the size and bulk of the purse being handed to him. "I can't take this."  </p><p>"You can. And you'll pay me back."</p><p>"I don't know if I'll be able to." He knew what he was signing up for and that his chances were grim.   </p><p>"You will," Elihal insisted and placed her hand on his elbow. "I don't know the extent of your trouble, but I've gleaned enough to understand it's serious. If you didn't have a witcher looking out for you, I'd be worried."  </p><p>Jaskier laughed and failed to hide the emptiness of it. "What witcher? He left last night."  </p><p>"Step outside, and you'll see how wrong you are."  </p><p>It felt wrong to hope, but Jaskier glanced toward the door with renewed excitement. Geralt stood off to the side on the lane beside the tailor shop, adjusting Roach's saddle and straps. </p><p>Jaskier had never in his life been so relieved to be wrong. Whatever fate lay in wait in Oxenfurt, he'd face it with Geralt by his side.  </p><p>The elf stepped up behind Jaskier and pressed the coin pouch into his hand again. "Take it." </p><p>"I'll pay you back," Jaskier promised. "With interest." He hugged his friend, hoping he'd be able to make good on the promise. </p><p>"Ready?" Geralt shouted. </p><p>"As I'll ever be," Jaskier grinned and ran to join his Witcher. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on <a href="https://mai-of-rivia.tumblr.com/"> Tumblr </a>for Witcher fic-recs, snippets, occasional prompt fills, and just because I love talking about these awesome characters.<br/>If you enjoyed my writing and would like to reblog this story, you can <a href="https://mai-of-rivia.tumblr.com/post/631372856822988800/fate-willing-by-maimat-summary-the-powers-that-be/"> do so here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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